


No Deliverance

by VeriLee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Fae, Bit O' Background Gingerpilot, Demon/Fae Romance, Demons, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fallen Angels, Is It Even Reylo If Kylo Doesn't Feed Rey At Some Point?, Tags May Change, Wing Kink, currently working on the next chapter so we shall see, fae, if we're honest I'm not sure if this is e or m so I'm rounding up to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeriLee/pseuds/VeriLee
Summary: Kylo Ren had seen beauty, witnessed the splendor of creation and the power of destruction, was well acquainted with desire and longing. Yet none of it compared to the strength and beauty of the tempest he was witnessing here.The only thing he understood with any degree of certainty was the fact that he inexplicably wanted to be closer. In a trance-like state, he advanced, and his feet seemed to move across the ground of their own volition.****Kylo Ren wasn't very good at being a demon, but then he hadn't been a very successful angel, either. However, when he is sent to tempt and bind an immortal named Rey, it's a challenge unlike anything he's faced before.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite/gifts).



> Ash's prompt was _"Kylo is a demon/fallen angel that sucks at his job. Who completely fails when he’s given the big task of destroying/bringing misfortune to Rey"_. I hope you enjoy what I came up with for you! More chapters to come!
> 
> A note to all readers: With topics like fallen angels and demons and temptation, we will indeed have some religious imagery and elements in here. It is not my intent to offend or make grand philosophical statements, and I don't think of this as a heavily religious fic. But just be aware that there are inevitably some mentions. Also there is NO non-con in this fic but there will be a couple comments from side characters who don't care much about consent. If the discussion gets heavy I will include an extra warning on the chapter. Violence tag may be added later. No other archive warnings will come into play.

* * *

 

 

 _And then I saw her, bathed in light._  
_A host of angels knelt at her side._  
_She said "you have forsaken all you believe,_  
_Crossed earth and oceans to be with me._  
_I'll be your lover, I'll be your wrack,_  
_And now you're never coming back._

_\- Toadies "No Deliverance"_

 

 

The pungent stench of brimstone was really only noticeable near the River of Dead itself but, even then, a demon would grow accustomed to it.

The Below was really not as hellish as it claimed to be.

Kylo Ren had grown restless, tired of the endless repetition and bureaucracy involved in being a fiend, for surely it was not the job of a demon to sit benignly around a conference table reviewing quarterly stats, of all things. He refused to believe he was the only one utterly disenchanted by the mind-numbing tedium of it all.

Before his inevitable expulsion from the divine realm of The Above, Kylo had been warned about the fate awaiting errant angels such as himself; tales of pain and punishment, judgment and eternal damnation were impressed upon him again and again.  
  
But no one had told him how dull the Below could so often be. Those in command of The Fallen had proven to be just as exacting as the angels back in Heaven and, although their style of enticing souls was less conventional, The Below’s quotas were equally as demanding. And their coffee was bitter as hell.  
  
Kylo had never found it easy to convince mortals to pledge their souls to the Lord’s cause, be it nirvana or perdition, and coercing immortals was damn near impossible. Now, as he dejectedly watched Armitage Hux’s loathsome peacocking over being named Demon of the Month yet again _,_ he still felt undecided about the principles of Heaven or Hell: were they worth fighting for? Did he even believe in them?  
  
"And,” Phasma announced sneeringly as she brought the meeting to a close, “last, _again,_ is Kylo Ren." 

She seized a length of parchment listing his meager successes and dropped it with disgust on the table directly in front of him. Leaning towards him, she cooed with malicious pleasure, "After our meeting adjourns, you must go immediately to Lord Snoke. He has a... _special_...assignment for you."  
  
Kylo angrily snatched up the paper, scowling to mask the shameful blush so desperately trying to betray his embarrassment. His superior could at least have waited until they were alone to pass on the directive, although he suspected she simply enjoyed humiliating him. With her blonde hair and iridescent silver robes, Phasma might look like an angel straight from Heaven, but Kylo was certain that _no_ messenger from The Above would be as capable of withering a person’s spirit so effectively, with so few words.   
  
The Below had gladly received Kylo when he had fallen. They had gleefully welcomed the offspring archangels, expecting a demon of prodigious talent, and had celebrated The Above’s substantial loss.  But it became clear over time that neither Kylo nor The Below had lived up to the other’s expectations, and he had now been summoned again for another tongue-lashing. If he was lucky.

"Yes, ma'am," he grit between clenched teeth.  
  
“Don’t feel _too_ bad, Ren,” Hux sneered, bumping into the back of Kylo’s chair as he walked by. “You’ve only been here for, what? Nine hundred years? You’re just not ready to play with the big boys yet, are you?” he crooned in a patronizing tone, somehow managing to insult him for being new and inexperienced _and_ too old to be so inept. 

The way Hux spoke, one could be forgiven for assuming that he was an Original, present at the time of _The_ Fall. But, although he had defected later, as so many other demons had, he had been cast from The Above eons before Kylo and refused to let anyone forget it.

Kylo did not deign to respond to his irritating counterpart’s taunts.  Instead, he shoved his chair back with a loud scrape on the marble floor and stormed out of the meeting room, his pace quickening to match his soaring rage as he wove through the labyrinthine halls towards Lord Snoke’s lair. His irritation bubbled dangerously, at Hux, at Phasma, at _himself,_ his inability to assimilate and the banal meaningless of it all…

His master’s chamber was fronted by a pair of handsome onyx doors, lavishly polished to emphasize their imposing grandeur, while their lustrous black surfaces sent shadowy reflections back at any nervous subject awaiting entry. Raising his hand to knock, he suddenly paused and frowned haltingly at the image glaring miserably back at him from the vast dark mirrors.

Kylo Ren had never been enamored of his looks, feeling that he lacked the beauty typically associated with angels; his ears and nose were a little too pronounced, his lips a little too full, and his skin randomly clustered with moles. But he would secretly admit to feeling immensely pleased with the dark tresses that framed his brooding features - pride had always been one of his faults.

As he currently had no need to blend in among the mortals in the human realm, he was now clothed in the underworld’s standard garb of black tunic and robes with his fine, plumed wings curled close to his body. He knew he should look resplendent as one of Lucifer’s prized demons but, today, as his melancholy brown eyes stared lifelessly back at him, he merely looked tired and despondent, eager for death. He wished, belatedly, that he had thought to wear the helmet issued for certain State events, feeling a sudden need to conceal his discontent from his waiting master. But it was too late for that now and, with a sigh, Kylo requested entry by knocking with a heavy hand and an even heavier heart.

The ancient door slowly drew open and its weary creak pierced the silence pervading the quiet hall. A figure robed in red wordlessly nodded at Kylo by way of greeting before gesturing towards the throne at the far end of the room, where the twisted form of an old, gnarled demon sat, clad in gaudy gold robes and little else. The room was vast and, as Kylo’s eyes scanned its ridiculous dimensions, he wondered how it compared to the opulent majesty of Lucifer’s palatial chambers, or those of the inner circle of the Original Fallen.

Kylo dragged his reluctant feet heavily across the floor, and each footstep seemed to echo awkwardly throughout the cold, dank room. The fires that burned and flickered in the numerous grates seemed to make little difference to the stagnance lingering heavily in the air, but he supposed that was customary in any place occupied by a demon who specialized in death. He noticed the guards flanking the impossibly long walkway, attired in weighty red robes which contrasted boldly with Lord Snoke’s purple-clad personal attendants; with their faces swallowed by their obscuring hoods, they presented an eerie, ghostly ambiance.

Lord Snoke’s icy gaze locked on Kylo as he approached the throne.

“Young Solo,” his master intoned in a voice as papery thin as the pink skin stretched tenuously across his skull.

Kylo tried, and failed, to conceal a grimace as he obediently dropped to one knee, knowing that whenever Lord Snoke used his father’s last name to insult his bloodline, a cruel punishment was sure to follow.

“Phasma said you wanted to see me, My Lord?” he said as innocently as he could, as though unaware of the reason for his summons.

“When you first arrived, I sensed greatness in you,” the demon began coldly, rising unsteadily from his seat. “You, son of an Archangel, with that mighty Skywalker blood pumping through your veins... Legions would have gladly followed your command!” He slowly circled around the apprentice kneeling at his feet, before leaning close to whisper darkly in his ear, “It seems I was wrong. You are weak. You are an _embarrassment_ to demonkind.”

Snoke’s unwelcome proximity sent Kylo’s skin crawling in revulsion, but he did his best to suppress the sensation. 

“I have given all I have to you!” Kylo protested, despite feeling as though his voice might fracture. “I have given everything to Hell!”

“Hmm. And it still isn’t enough, is it?” Snoke mused, the deceptive silkiness in his tone belying the disdainful fury in his eyes. Straightening to his full height, he paced around the room as he continued, “Not only are your recruitment numbers _dismal_ \- .

“I’m…” Kylo cut in defensively, but his voice immediately trailed off as he realized what he had done.

“DON’T interrupt me, boy!” Snoke boomed and the air seemed to crackle with his barely contained malevolence. “Not only are your recruitment numbers shameful, but you also succeeded in _losing_ two souls previously secured by others! These _others_ have now wholly dedicated themselves to The Above as a result of _your_ incompetence, as well as an additional mortal who’s now listed as “ _‘undecided’._ ”

Snoke’s gnarled features seemed to contort further as he continued, “And that’s only in the LAST THREE MONTHS!”

This was the first time Kylo had heard his master raise his voice, as Snoke certainly did not need to resort to theatrics in order to strike fear into the hearts of any man, woman, or demon.  Kylo’s innards bubbled anxiously as his mounting dread began to crest; he knew his punishment would be severe this time.

“I’ll work harder in the new quarter,” he muttered feebly, unsure what else he could offer.

“THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” Snoke roared, spitting each barbed syllable. “However,” he said, returning to his seat and crossing his legs as he gazed maliciously down at Kylo, “I have one last special task for you. Rise,” he demanded. As Kylo stood, Snoke snapped his fingers at one of the red-clad figures surrounding his throne, who glided soundlessly towards the hapless apprentice with a folder.

Kylo took the file from the demon’s outstretched hand and began to thumb shakily through its parchment. The first page listed a name, Rey, along with a few aliases: Kira, Flora, Libera, as well as a list of crimes attributed to her. The file contained no identifying photograph but, as he looked through its disparaging contents, he perceived a curious impression of what he could only describe as _sunniness_.

“She’s an entity - an earth faerie. She doesn’t belong to _them,_ ” Snoke snarled, hostility dripping from his tongue as though the word itself were repugnant. “But the girl is causing us problems, undoing our best work, softening hearts, encouraging fatuous pleasantness and sickening compassion _._ It must be stopped.”

“She’s an immortal,” Kylo said, confused. “If I succeed in tempting her-”

“ _IF’?_ You already plan to _fail_?”

“ _Once_ I have succeeded in tempting her,” Kylo began again, “there is no guarantee she’ll stay with us. Fae are fickle at best and, since they don’t die, they have all eternity to change their minds.”

“ _Any_ immortal can be _bound_ to Hell,” Snoke said forcefully as a steely glint flickered through his icy blue eyes. “Not unlike the oath you took when you fell, though there may be more difficulty with fae - they need to be broken first.” He narrowed his eyes imperiously. “Turn her will towards ours, weaken her, and _then_ we can bind her!”

Kylo was unsure what breaking the soul of a fae and binding it to Hell entailed but, judging by the revolting grin stretching across Snoke’s face, he could only assume it was gruesome. He nodded mutely, chastened.

“Prove yourself,” Snoke hissed. “Show me - and _Him_ \- that you're not just a child playing a facile game, that we welcomed a _real_ demon into our midst. And if you don’t turn her…. I shall simply _demonstrate_ the breaking and binding of an immortal. On _your_ pathetic soul.”

With that, Snoke waved one hand and effectively dismissed him.

“Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Kylo dawdled, finding opportunities to delay the inevitable.

He found himself asking Finn to meet him for lunch, ostensibly to discuss strategy. Or so he told himself. Even though Finn was an old friend from the days before he fell, it was still foolish to ask an angel for advice, especially on the subject of securing immortals for the fight at the End of Days.

“Snoke is punishing me,” he confided, too distracted to appreciate the rich, velvety notes of his wine.

Across the table, Finn barked out a laugh. “Your supervisors are Lords of Hell, and you’re surprised when one of them is _mean_ to you?”

Kylo gave him what was intended to be a scathing look but it lacked any real heat - Finn had a valid point.

“He’s assigned me to tempt an important target.”

“That sounds like par for the course, doesn’t it?” Finn asked. “I mean, temptation _is_ your main job description.”

“She’s an immortal. A fae. Snoke wants her for the End Times.”

Finn let out a low whistle. “Okay, I see your point. The fae are so finicky with their alliances. And if you manage to convince them one century, they change their mind the next. That’s why we don’t bother with them anymore.”

“He wants me to fail.” Kylo conveniently omitted to mention the part about binding the fae target to Hell - Finn was fairly laid back about alliances, but one could only trust an angel from Heaven to a certain point. “And if I do…”

“Maybe if you spent less time with angels, you’d be better at your job,” Finn teased.

“Says the angel that hangs out with demons,” Kylo replied warmly, pleased that their banter was lightening his mood a little, even if only temporarily.

“Hey now! Only _one_ demon,” Finn countered. “I shouldn’t do this but...here, let me see the file, maybe I really can help you.”

 

* * *

 

If Kylo had expected to find his target daintily weaving flower crowns as she reclined in a rustic cornfield, or walking the halls of a grand cathedral with her rosary piously in hand, he was sorely mistaken.

For all his analysis of Rey’s file and her extensive benevolence, his sources led him to a dingy dive bar situated on a mostly deserted street, and he found her angrily tearing into a dazed man smelling of cheap liquor while a petite blonde woman swayed drunkenly beside her.  He got the impression that the man in question had been rough with the petite woman and, even if Kylo had not overheard the aggressive dialogue, he clearly discerned the dark tint to the man’s aura; he was already one of theirs, then.

But Kylo was unable to maintain his focus on the humans, as his attention had quickly honed on his target. His goal, his soul to destroy.

Her body was lean but soft, toned but feminine and, even in the dim glow of the streetlights, he could make out a smattering of freckles across her arms and shoulders; as she moved, the light caught her brown tresses in a silky sheen.

But it was her face that truly captured his awe. Even contorted in anger - maybe _especially_ contorted in anger - her features, her delicate nose and pink, rosebud mouth, were beautiful. And her _eyes!_ A harmony of green and brown he couldn’t quite assign a name to... they seemed to flash in fiery vigilance and unbridled passion.

It wasn’t just that she was pretty, but that she held herself with a firm decisiveness and sense of purpose that he had never found within himself.

Kylo Ren had seen beauty, witnessed the splendor of creation and the power of destruction, was well acquainted with desire and longing. Yet none of it compared to the strength and beauty of the tempest he was witnessing here - or was the storm just raging inside him?  The only thing he understood with any degree of certainty was the fact that he inexplicably wanted to be _closer._

In a trance-like state, he advanced, and his feet seemed to move across the ground of their own volition. The drunken man was backing away from Rey, hands raised in supplication as he muttered something about ‘ _this not being worth it’_.

Without thinking it through, Kylo gave a slight twist of the wrist, waving his fingers in the man’s direction and causing him to fall sideways into a puddle of muddy water.

He didn't have time to question why he had done it before his target, Rey, whipped her head round to look over her shoulder at him, apparently noticing him for the first time. Sensing, he  assumed, the shift in the air as he commanded his magic - she was still connected to the same fabric of the mystical world after all.

Her eyes narrowed not in anger, but confusion, and they flitted back and forth between Kylo and the girl as if considering what and how much to say in front of her.

“Help me get her home,” she commanded, in a voice that implied questioning later, and Kylo did not argue. After all, snatching time alone with her was his plan, even if they had to make a brief diversion. Nodding wordlessly, he followed her as she guided the woman away from the aggressive man, who had stumbled back to his feet and was now cursing profusely as he ambled unevenly down the road.

“Do you live nearby?” Rey asked the girl.

The young woman only giggled as she blinked appreciatively in Kylo’s direction. “You’re like a human tree!” she slurred. “We could build a treehouse,” she added before bursting into a fully-fledged guffaw. Kylo tilted his head, unsure what to make of her confusing comment.

“Tell me, where do you live?” Rey prompted again, gently grasping the blonde’s shoulders.

Kylo sighed impatiently and rolled his eyes. “Just read her mind,” he said. “It’ll be quicker.”

Rey frowned up at him. “That’s not right! And you must be discreet about that kind of thing.”

“She’s not going to remember this conversation,” Kylo scoffed dismissively. “And we’re not doing anything _nefarious._ ”

Without waiting for Rey’s response, Kylo lifted one hand and extended it in the direction of the girl. Her expression was immediately clouded by confusion as she blinked rapidly at the disconcerting sensation of him rifling through her mind.

“21 Lucas Street, unit A-87,” he announced, dropping his hand. “It’s only a couple blocks east of here.”

Rey huffed and Kylo could feel the irritation bristling in her aura, not that it wasn’t already obvious from her scowl. “I could have just looked for her driver’s license, you know,” she said hotly. “If you’d only given me a moment.”

“Well it’s done now, come on,” he said heavily. He had not exactly made a good start with the fae.

With that, Rey and Kylo each took one of the girl's arms and began to guide her down the street.  He hoped her building didn't have an entry code, as he did not wish to upset Rey by having to invade the girl’s mind again.

The walk was short, but tense.  Rey cast both curious and suspicious glances in Kylo’s direction, while he wretchedly tried to devise a plan to entice her.

Once they'd gotten the girl home and passed her into the care of a groggy roommate, Rey only managed to wait until they were in the elevator before demanding answers from Kylo.

“I _thought_ I felt someone watching me,” she began. “What were you doing there?”

“A pleasure meeting you, too,” Kylo said dryly.

“Okay.” Rey rolled her eyes before adopting a falsely polite tone. “Hello, I'm Rey, but I have a sinking suspicion that you already knew that. And you are?”

“Kylo Ren. And you're right - I did seek you out. I have an...opportunity of sorts for you.” There could be no wasting precious time. Having failed to manipulate weaker minds, an immortal such as her required nothing but a direct approach.

He followed Rey back out of the building a suddenly felt grateful for the cool air caressing his skin as the night welcomed them. As they strolled aimlessly down the darkened streets, it became clear that they were not in the most salubrious of neighborhoods, but he knew neither of them need be concerned for their safety.

“You’re not fae,” Rey said suddenly, pausing as she tried to read him. “So which are you?”

“Demon,” Kylo answered bluntly.

“I’m not affiliated with the dark side,” Rey replied, just as succinct.

“You’re not associated with the light side, either.”

“I don’t like that you know so much about me,” Rey said sourly.

“Most fae remain unaffiliated,” he said factually.

“Mm, yes. We prefer to stay out of your bickering...” Rey stopped walking for a moment and peered at him curiously. “But you sought me out. You’re not just making an educated guess about my allegiances.”

“No, I’m not,” Kylo conceded. “You currently work in youth outreach. My master thinks you’d be an asset to our team.”

Rey snorted as they resumed walking; Lucifer help him, even that derisive sound was beautiful. Kylo was finding it increasingly difficult to stay focused.

“I haven’t signed up with you in all my time on earth, so what makes you think I will now?” she asked.

“I know about your parents,” Kylo said softly.

Rey tensed, although her expression remained carefully neutral. “Fae have never had a reputation for being very family oriented,” she said flatly.

“They abandoned you when you were _too young_ , though,” Kylo said, reciting what he’d read in her file. “You were only a child, and didn’t know how to hone your powers or care for yourself. You went hungry because they left you.”

 “I survived,” Rey retorted curtly.

“Because you couldn’t die,” Kylo stated.

“I learned to take care of myself!” Rey countered hotly as anger finally broke through her calm facade.

“And that’s why you take care of others. Volunteer at shelters, help make sure humans don’t go without, the way that you had to.”

Rey merely pursed her lips and continued to walk, eyes locked resolutely ahead. “And?”

“If you align with us, you’ll never go hungry again-”

“I don’t go hungry anymore.”

“ _And_ neither will the humans you’ve been trying to help,” Kylo continued persuasively, deliberately ignoring her interruption. “We’re prepared to support and fund all the shelters and food banks you’ve been working for... _if_ you’ll join us and lead your mortals to enlist as well.”

Kylo paused, lifting his hand to use his devilish magic with the sole intention of enticing, rather than invading, Rey’s mind. He artfully filled Rey’s imagination with visions of grand banquet tables lavished richly with the finest foods she had ever seen; of the shelter’s pantry shelves overflowing with nutritious food instead of cheap donations; of Rey distributing the rations without having to parse out miniscule portions.

“Get out of my head,” Rey ordered between clenched teeth, and Kylo dropped his hand. “You know I’m an earth faerie; I could manipulate the land myself, if I really wanted to. You think I’d sell my soul to you for some _groceries?_ ” A hint of humor had woven incredulously into her indignant tone.

“Food, shelter, sustenance for those that need it most? That doesn’t appeal to you?” Kylo replied, aware that he had almost adopted the whine of _begging_.

“Not enough to pledge my allegiance to your side,” Rey scoffed. “I like my freedom, thank you.”

“Why _don’t_ you manipulate the earth then? Make things easier on yourself?” His curiosity was genuine.

“The Earth is part of me but she is not mine to control. I won’t bend her to my will,” Rey explained softly, as something akin to pity entered her eyes. He bristled uncomfortably at the notion; he didn’t want compassion.

“Have you never known what it’s like to craft something with your hands - to build, cultivate...not just snap your fingers and have what you want?”

 “I don’t get everything I want at the snap of my fingers,” Kylo muttered as he miserably recalled his endless string of failures, his withering performance reviews and, as if that was not humiliating enough, his mother and uncle’s frowns at his unsuccessful attempts to guide souls towards the light. He would never forget the undercurrent of fear he had sensed in them as they secretly fretted about his future – they knew he would fall – it was only a matter of _when_.

But he knew that wasn’t what Rey meant. Never, in Heaven nor Hell, had he wanted for physical indulgences - food, water, which were not even strictly necessary for angelkind, were his whenever he desired.

Rey sighed and glanced over him as though considering something.

“Come with me,” she finally said, gesturing for him to follow.

She led him to a small house, not too far away. _Her_ house, clearly. It could not exactly be described as illustrious but life seemed to flourish in every corner, fitting what Kylo would have envisaged the home of a spring goddess to look like, should he have ever tried to imagine one. The front yard was unusual - almost a small farm unto itself, with neat rows of vegetables flanking either side of the brick path bisecting it. Inside, little pots of herbs lined the window sills while many more hung, drying in bunches from the ceiling, and his stunned eyes could not escape the lush array of tulips, daffodils and forget-me-nots assembled in little vases, nearly everywhere he looked. She had certainly succeeded in bringing the outside indoors.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked, a little overwhelmed.

“To show you why I don’t need you to ply me with food.” She walked through to the kitchen and Kylo obediently followed, quietly observing her for a few moments as she busied herself with pots and jars and cutlery.

“You expect me to believe you don't use your own magic in that garden?”

“I never said I didn't. I work with the Earth, let her work with me. I don't try to possess her,” Rey explained. “Here, help me out why don’t you?”

“Umm...?”

Rey held out a knife to him and nodded at a cutting board she had placed on the counter. “Cut the onions - small, please.”

Gobsmacked, and confused at being ordered about, Kylo wordlessly obliged and, before long, the two of them had chopped up an assortment of fresh vegetables as well as a large piece of chicken, which Rey carefully deposited into a pot of broth. A rich and savory aroma soon filled the room.

“See? I don't need your magic. I can feed myself.” She sat down at the small table in the corner of the cramped kitchen. “And you'll see soon enough - I'm pretty good at it, after six hundred years,” she added with a smile.

“Why are you being kind to me?” Kylo sank into the chair opposite her.

“Everyone deserves kindness,” she shrugged. “Even a demon.”

“Demons don’t need kindness. Just the opposite in fact,” Kylo answered without conviction.

“We’ll see,” Rey said, grinning. “Now if you can promise to stop trying to recruit me for the rest of the night, I think I have some leftover garlic bread to go with this.”

Kylo heaved a sigh. He could not deny that the soup now simmering and spitting on the stove smelled tantalizingly good and, sitting in the company of a pretty fae could hardly be described as unpleasant. Which only meant that he was in big trouble - Lord Snoke had unwittingly tasked him with a considerably more problematic assignment than even _he_ had intended.

_Shit._

 

 


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy where I'm headed with your prompt, Ash! :)

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo prowled into the bar, and three demons widened their eyes in shock as he approached them. 

Poe Dameron, Armitage Hux and Bazine Netal had been engaged in a game of cards and, despite Kylo’s obvious lack of pleasure in seeing them, they wordlessly made room for him at the table. He glared peevishly at their incredulous stares as he sat down.

“Deal me in,” he rumbled, languidly throwing a handful of gold coins onto the table’s grimy surface.

“You feeling alright man?” Poe asked, shuffling the cards.

“Never better.” The lie might have might have been convincing if his voice had not sounded petulant. “Why would you ask?”

“Maybe because you've never once joined us for poker in all the decades we've been getting together?” Bazine responded with a smirk.

 “I've been busy.”

His statement was not exactly untruthful. He had ended up spending longer at Rey's than planned as their conversation had stretched long into the night, and he had genuinely smiled more than any demon had the right to. But, by the time they parted, he was still no closer to tempting her.

“Burning the midnight oil, eh, Kylo?” Poe asked, flashing his toothy smile. Despite his coquettish charm, the demon’s numbers were only mildly better than Kylo’s but he rarely appeared affected by it. His brown eyes actually twinkled as he breezily dealt the cards, and no one seemed to be in the slightest bothered by his inappropriate joviality. “Gunning for that sweet ‘Demon of the Month’ spot, are you?” he chuckled.

Hux, who had been quiet up till now, snorted derisively at Poe’s comment. “He doesn’t join us because he can’t bluff for shit. He’s as poor a card player as he is a tempter.” The red-haired demon fixed his piercing green eyes on Kylo. “Which begs the question: why _are_ you here?”

Kylo huffed in irritation and ignored him. “Poe, you’re not one to talk,” he mumbled, glancing nonchalantly at the cards splayed in his hand.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Bazine commented.

“Maybe if you didn’t flirt so much, Poe, _you’d_ win more souls,” Hux muttered.

“Is that _jealousy_?” Poe teased, turning his trademark smirk on Hux. “You know who I come home to.”

Hux blushed - Poe had long been the only one to ever get past his fastidious facade. “Of course not,” he said primly. “Your numbers just drag down the average.”

“We just balance each other out,” Poe said amiably. “You catch enough souls to make up for me.”

“Why not just use possession?” Bazine suggested, interrupting the demons’ interminable flirting with a grin. She leaned towards Kylo and gave a loose strand of her hair a deceptively innocent twirl with her finger. “It’s much more fun,” she said salaciously.

Kylo narrowed his eyes. The idea of someone, anyone, possessing the free-spirited Rey irked him more than he could stomach. Still, he welcomed the opening - the questionable advice on offer was exactly what he had come for, even though he grimaced at the thought of having to seek it from barely-tolerable coworkers.

Disregarding Bazine’s comment, he angled himself to face Poe and asked, “Really, how _do_ you manage to persuade more souls than I do, when you just fool around, wasting time? You hardly even try.”

“Hey man, I _do_ put in the work. You just shouldn’t be so desperate about it – they’ll succumb if they’re meant to.”

“What if -” Kylo almost bit his tongue in shame as he registered that, of all people, he was about to ask _Poe Dameron_ for advice. “What if they don’t want the regular things, you know, riches, food and wine. Material goods?”

“Everyone has something they want, but not everyone wants the same thing,” Poe replied and, though his tone was still light, he was no longer joking. “Find out what they want so bad, they’ll turn dark for it.”

Four hands later, and down a substantial amount of gold due to his terrible poker face, Kylo finally left. But, even after several hours of restless fidgeting in bed, sleep still eluded him as his thoughts merged into a confusing blur of Rey’s face and Poe’s words.

  

* * *

 

“You again,” Rey greeted brusquely, although her voice held no real malice.

“Me again,” Kylo agreed with a small smile. Kylo returned to her little house a few days after the conversation with his bothersome coworkers, and he arrived bearing gifts.

“Don’t you people have to be formally invited in?”

“That’s vampires, not demons, and you know as well as I that they aren’t real,” he responded dryly. “And you already invited me in last time. I think in most folklore, once is all it takes.”

“Hmm. Vampire, Prince of Hell, what’s the difference?” Rey joked.

“There’s only one Prince of Hell and it’s not me,” Kylo said tersely.

“Loosen up, Kylo. Are you always this pedantic?”

“No, sometimes I’m even _more_ particular,” Kylo smirked self-deprecatingly, aiming to keep things light despite the fact that he was probably being a little more honest than intended.

But Rey was smiling and settled down onto the sofa, motioning for him to join her. “I’m beat, so I’m not entertaining tonight,” she warned, slouching down a little further as she kicked her feet up on the low table in front of her. She was not dressed for a night out, unlike the last time they met. Tonight, Rey was clad in the soft stretchy fabric of a pair of casual leggings and oversized sweatshirt, with her brown hair piled into a messy bun on her head. Kylo found himself thinking that, incredibly, she looked even more endearing than last time, and then soundly reprimanded himself for thinking such dangerous thoughts.

“I imagine you’re here to try to recruit me again?” Rey speculated, frowning at the Chinese take-out cartons balanced in his arms. “I told you - food, no matter how much I like to eat, won’t entice me.”

“I know.” Kylo perched on the couch next to Rey and spread out the food across the coffee table, snapping his fingers to manifest both chopsticks and silverware when he realized the shop had provided neither. He still had difficulty understanding such Earthly matters as take-out etiquette. Rey merely rolled her eyes and pointed out that she did, in fact, have plenty of perfectly functioning forks in her kitchen.

“I just figured that, as you provided dinner for our negotiations last time, it’s my turn.”

“How modern of you,” Rey deadpanned, but leaned forward nonetheless and grabbed a carton of sesame chicken. “This is nice though, thank you. I’ve had a long day.”

“I’ve come with a purpose,” Kylo hedged, opening another carton and trying to relax a little.

“Ah, there it is!” Rey burst out triumphantly. “With what riches do you tempt me today? Silver and gold? The eradication of disease and pestilence? World peace?”

“Something a little more personal, I’d like to think,” he said hopefully. Having spent a lot of time pondering Poe’s advice, he believed he may have finally hatched a viable plan.

_What could someone desire so intensely as to turn for it? What would an Earth faerie, abandoned by heartless parents and left to fend for herself, crave the most?_

Lord Snoke had cast his deadly eyes over Rey’s file and seen her track record as a litany of despicable crimes against the principles of hell: orphanages, soup kitchens, youth outreach. However, when Kylo had first made contact with her, he had seen something else, something to indicate that her actions were not purely driven by an altruistic desire to do good - for all her charitable conduct, she had never aligned herself to the Above, a realm that would have welcomed her unconditionally. He sensed something selfish, something _wanting_ in her motives.

“You said you’re tired today,” Kylo commented. “Is that different from any other day?”

Rey shrugged. “Being tired isn’t bad. It just means I’ve been busy.”

“I see you, Rey,” Kylo said softly, leaning towards her slightly. “You haven’t let go of the past, not really. You see yourself in the eyes of the children you help, you see the shadow of your own wanting, _needing_ , to be taken care of. That’s why you work so hard to take care of all these random, fleeting lives.”

Rey swallowed thickly and he noticed that the jovial glint had faded from her eyes. “Is that so bad?” she asked quietly.

“Rey, _you_ deserve to be taken care of for a change.” He re-positioned himself on the sofa to face her.

“I told you before,” she said guardedly. “I can take care of myself.”

“You can, you really can, I see that,” Kylo affirmed. “But what if you didn’t have to? I don’t just mean having a bountiful pantry or anything like that. If you joined us, you wouldn’t have to toil at thankless, menial work. You would be rightfully pampered, your every need, every desire, catered to.”

“I don’t need-”

“Imagine,” Kylo said softly, feeling as though he might be getting somewhere. He set his half-eaten food down and shifted closer. “If you were hurt, someone would tend your wounds. If you were cold, someone would be there to warm you, if you were lonely, you would have company...”

He refrained from forcing images into her mind this time and simply relied on his powers of persuasion to paint the picture, and Rey’s eyes slowly fluttered shut as he artfully spun his devilish proposal. She slowly lost herself in his prose as it dripped provocatively from his tongue.

“You would never be alone, or longing, again.”

As she sank deeper into the enticing image, a lock of hair lazily fell across her forehead and he almost reached out to gently brush it aside, but stopped himself just in time. He must not allow himself to get distracted.

“Everyone has heard stories of angels offering comfort and care but what they don’t know is that demons do, too. After all, we trained in the same sort of business before falling,” he said, but it came out in an inelegant rush as he struggled to refocus on his task. “We have demons that would be dedicated _just to you_ , doting on you as no one ever has. Wouldn’t you agree that that sounds nice?”

Rey opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden invasion of light. “It does,” she said, her voice faltering just a little. “But it might sound nicer if you weren’t just promising me…. hired servants.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

Rey did not answer. Instead, she purposefully set her food aside and turned to face Kylo, settling into a cross-legged position on the sofa. Her jaw set in contemplation, she fixed an inquiring gaze on him and he felt his gut lurch in anticipation; he knew the next words to tumble from her lips would slay him.

“Why did you fall?”

No one had ever asked him that before, and he was immediately floored by the outright directness of the question. As his thoughts unraveled messily inside his head, he could do nothing but gape hopelessly at Rey while fumbling aimlessly for a suitable response. Why would she want to know? Why would she even _care?_

It was not as though he had planned his fall. His descent had not been driven by lust, or formed part an elaborate scheme to achieve glory or riches...

He had simply been an incompetent shepherd, allowed God’s lambs to stray from his keep too many times.  He even failed miserably at basic guardianship duties such as guiding the newly departed to The Above or bestowing comfort upon the souls of the troubled. His performance had been consistently poor, no matter how he tried, and his resultant outbursts of rage and frustration had provided a near-constant source of gossip fodder for the loosed-tongued among other angels.

He had always known about their spiteful whispers and their unfavorable comparisons to his unpredictable grandfather, one of the original Fallen. Even his family would turn their despairing eyes on him without ever elucidating their obvious disappointment, and their silences had spoken more clearly than any of their words of reassurance, no matter how well-intentioned they were.

When he finally fell, he was sure there must have been a collective sigh of inevitability from the Heavens.

Kylo cleared his throat. “There was an...incident,” he began, looking down at his hands as the words struggled to make their way to his mouth. “I - I used to be a guardian angel,” he mumbled, glancing quickly up at her before downing his eyes again. “My name was Ben, back then.”

“Ben,” Rey said softly, tasting the name on her lips. “I like it. It suits you.”

Kylo only scoffed. “Well, being a guardian certainly didn’t suit me - I wasn't very good at it,” he muttered, still avoiding Rey’s gaze. “I lost a lot of souls and those in charge were forever changing my assignments, in the hope they’d find _somewhere_ I couldn't screw things up.

“My uncle - he's something of a big deal, an archangel - sent me to oversee a village. The plague was still wolfishly ravishing Europe at that point in history, but this village was a remote society so the disease hadn’t reached them. Their need for solace was lower than it would have been in the cities, where the despair was harder to keep at bay. I had no excuse - it should have been easy...

“At one point during my mission, I came across a young man: a reckless blacksmith.” _Not so unlike myself,_ Kylo thought as he recalled the man’s anger and impatience _._ “I should have made an effort to watch over him more closely, guided his hand, offered him temperance. One day, while working at his forge, his... _carelessness_ led to a blazing inferno, and half the village was decimated before it could be stopped. The plague never touched them, but hundreds died under my watch nonetheless.”

“Oh Kylo,” Rey’s whisper brought him back to the present. “It wasn't your fault!” she empathized.

He shook his head. “I should have noticed, I should have been a better guide, or noticed in time to wake up others, sound an alarm - anything. I know my uncle would have, had _he_ been there. The _great Luke Skywalker_ ,” he spat bitterly. “Snoke was there, of course, swooping from the depths of hell like a hideous carrion bird as he collected the dead. He was always proclaiming his delight in my blunders – he told me he was ‘proud of me’, that he’d been watching me and that I had potential,” Kylo snorted mirthlessly. “When a dark angel of death chooses you as their protege, that’s kind of a sign isn’t it?”

“No!” Rey’s whisper was quietly horrified.

“I couldn’t go back to Heaven after that,” he continued wretchedly, barely having registered her reaction. “I knew it was over. It’s only when you let the past die that you find where you’re really meant to be,” he shrugged, feigning a casualness he did not really feel.

“Maybe it’s not where you’re meant to be,” Rey said soothingly.

“Where else should I be, then?” he asked, aware that he sounded as desperate as he felt.

“I don’t know,” she replied earnestly. “I don’t know where I truly belong either, but I have to hope I’ll find it someday, right? I have to believe that I won’t be alone forever. What else is there but hope?”

Kylo finally met Rey’s eyes and recognized the same desperation, the same desire for belonging, swimming in their depths and a powerful feeling of kinship and understanding swept through him. He had offered her a weak facsimile of care, of artificial companionship, but he realized now that it was neither what she wanted nor what she _deserved._ He found himself instead wanting to pledge something of more value to her, even if it was not truly in his ability to do so.

“You’re not alone,” he promised, and his deep voice seemed to rumble with restrained passion.

“Neither are you,” Rey replied solemnly and without hesitation. He watched in mesmerized bewilderment as she slowly reached towards him with a wary but purposeful movement, sliding her fingers around his hands as they rested on his legs.

Her hands were small and calloused from hard work, and her grip somehow soft and firm at once. As he shakily exhaled, he tried to recall when anyone had last touched him so gently, or whether anyone had _ever_ reached out to him in this way? He swallowed heavily and squeezed her fingers in return and, at that moment, he wished he would never have to relinquish her hold, never have to return to Snoke, or Hell or any of it.

“Ben,” Rey whispered, almost reverently. Despite having abandoned that name nearly a thousand years ago, Kylo felt himself melting in response to its sound from her lips. “Can I see… That is, will you show me your wings?”

_As if he could deny her anything._

Kylo nodded slowly and, as much as he regretted the loss of touch, he slipped his hands from her grasp in order to unbutton and remove his shirt, twisting so that his back faced her. But, before he had turned fully, he caught a brief glimpse her gaze as it crawled appreciatively over his bare torso, and pulsed with pride at her wide-eyed exploration.

With a slight twitch, the magic that kept his wings hidden fell away. During his Earthly visits, concealing his true nature felt akin to claustrophobia and, upon his return to the depths of hell, unfurling his wings usually filled him with a brief rush of exhilaration.

But with Rey watching him, the act felt worlds more significant. Not only had he bared his soul, but also his true form to her. He could feel her regarding him, and shivered at the intensity of her gaze as it trailed heavily over the contours of his back and devoured the vast length of his wings.

He felt a shift in the air, followed by the lightest touch as her fingers made tentative contact with him. She traced her hands gently along each stiff ridge and ruffled feather as if reading him with her fingers, causing him to shudder as he bit back a groan at the sensation. He realized that she was probably unaware just how erotic her touch was, how sensitive his wings were.

“I've never been so close to an angel's wings before,” she whispered in awe. Although she knew exactly what he was, she had not referred to him as specifically dark or fallen, or even demon, and his cold, lonely heart clenched in hopeful disbelief.

“I - we - don't often let people get so close,” Kylo rumbled deeply. He wondered if she was able to feel his heart hammering frantically inside his ribcage - to him, it seemed to echo through the space around them. “Usually we mask ourselves in order to appear human, or even just remain invisible.” This was typically true of both angels and demons.

“I'm honored,” Rey said softly, as she trailed her fingertips to the base of the wings, where the flesh of his back eased into the soft but weighty expanse of feathers. “They're...sturdier than I imagined, but I guess they have to be.”

She studied him, quiet and motionless for a moment but, as he began to wonder what she was thinking, she suddenly leaned in, pressing her lips to the hollow between his wings and setting his skin on fire where her mouth touched him. There was no suppressing the gravelly moan that escaped him this time, rumbling up from his chest, through his parted lips and surprising even himself.

Rey didn't seem put off, however; if anything, she seemed encouraged, and he felt the warmth of her breath stutter over his sensitive skin before kissing it again.

If he had not fallen long before this moment, he would have forsaken _everything_ for the feeling of her warm tongue against him as she longingly licked the ridge where wing met back. Kylo’s eyes closed as he bit the inside of his cheek; his cock, already half hard, now twitched sharply in reaction to the sensation. She turned and licked the other wing base, too, biting down ever so slightly as she reached the top, just below his shoulder.

Kylo's wings, which had been trembling under her touch, expanded fully open of their own volition, flaring outward in all their magnificence and startling them both. The rich, dark wingspan seemed too big, too heavy for Rey’s small living room and nearly crowded them right off the couch, but Rey did not seem even slightly perturbed by the inconvenience.

“Beautiful,” she murmured, dragging her fingers lightly to the very tips of the outstretched wings. Kylo’s cheeks burned.

As much as he loved the feel of her fingers stroking him, he wanted to see her face, wanted to - _needed to_ \- touch her too. He managed to maneuver in the confined space and paused as he absorbed the sight before him. Rey’s breathing was ragged as she stared back at him, hazel eyes dilated so far that they were as black and dark as his very soul; her cheeks flushed pink in the rapidly mounting heat. She seemed as affected by this exchange as he was.

“Rey,” he whispered, reaching out to cup her face. He gulped as she leaned into his touch, and found himself trembling slightly as her upper body swayed towards him. Allowing instinct to take over, he dipped his face towards hers, and she quickly surged forwards to meet his lips with her own fevered hunger.

An age had passed since Kylo had known a lover’s touch, but kissing Rey was like discovering the pleasure anew, for the first time. Her mouth parted to him and he breathed her as though he were drowning and she were the very air that filled his lungs.

She was a living, breathing contradiction: her lips soft and giving as rose petals but her kiss hard and demanding, her teeth sharp as she nipped at his own lips. She ran the fingers of one hand tenderly along the edge of one wing and tangled the other into his hair, tugging roughly. He moaned, unabashed, and the sound reverberated through his chest as her tongue slid against his and her fingers drifted over him.

The pent up desire of an indescribable length of time flowed back and forth between them as they traded frantic touches, hands and lips exploring with the desperation of two people who may never touch another soul again. Did Kylo pull Rey into his lap or did she climb onto his thighs herself? When had his hand made its way under the fleece of her sweatshirt, to caress the soft skin he found waiting? Whose ragged gasp echoed in his ears as she rocked against him, and whose heat burned through the layers of fabric as they rubbed together?

Kylo was sucking at the tender flesh just above Rey’s collarbone when reality came crashing back down: her fingers had nimbly danced down his chest and _lower_ still, and were now teasing at the waistband of his jeans and inching under the fabric.

His wings twitched and fluttered at the touch he craved so desperately, but, this time, his traitorous feathers managed to smack against the forgotten Chinese take-out. The cartons were sent crashing to the floor. They froze and tensed at the sudden interruption, and Kylo nearly growled as Rey withdrew her hand.

“Shit,” he muttered against her skin, before pressing one last kiss to the faint, but blossoming, mark he’d left on her neck and smirking with pride at the little shiver that she tried to suppress as he did so.

The room had fallen into a timorous silence but for their heavy breathing and frantic heartbeats, and the air buzzed with a panoply of unspoken questions. What just happened? Where did they now stand? What came next? Rey was still a fae, unwilling to succumb to Kylo’s silver-tongued enticement, while Kylo was still a demon with a task, one with a sinister finale which he had neglected to reveal to her. And he had no idea how to comprehend the events that had just unfolded.

“I should… I should clean that up,” he muttered between heavy breaths, though he made no move to let go of Rey, one hand still curved around her hipbone, the other cupping the back of her neck.

“Maybe,” Rey replied, pausing to lean in and kiss Kylo softly. “But maybe using magic to cut corners isn’t always a bad idea.”

And with a twist of her wrist, she vanished the food before taking Kylo’s mouth with her own once again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta, who I can't name until anon is off. But your magic is grander than Rey or Kylo's! I couldn't have done this without you. And thank you to those of you in the Den who helped me find my way on this - you know who you are! <3


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